


With Friends Like These

by ChibiKame



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-17 01:33:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11841207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiKame/pseuds/ChibiKame
Summary: A series of one-shot tales all about Trolls





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well will you look at that, a new series. This one probably won't be updated as often since I really don't have a ton of time, but I do have plenty of story ideas I want to post here. This one I had on my computer for a while, but only after Secretiskept made a comic about it on tumblr did I decide I wanted to finish it (this one is not a HTTYD crossover, though, it's just based on what Gobber said))

She took a deep breath.

“Alright, Poppy, you can do this,” she told herself.

“Atta girl, keep that chin up!” Satin encouraged while readjusting the royal robe.

“We’re with you through it all!” Chenille helpfully added.

The rest of the Snack gave their own words of encouragement as well.

“We believe in you!”

“Show ‘em whose queen!”

“You’re doing what’s best for everyone!”

“Yeah, the worst they can do is _dislike_ you!”

“Cooper!” They shushed him too late. Poppy’s face formed a grimace unbecoming of the happiest troll of all. She hopped off the stool and gave the crown atop her head a pat.

Queen of the fun-loving, carefree trolls wasn’t all cupcakes and rainbows like it seemed on paper. There was the stress of solving everyone’s problems, assigning jobs, planning new developments…

And of course, making tough calls.

This one, in particular, would be pretty tough.

The alliance with the Bergens had it’s pitfalls. Different cultures, manners, interests, and even taste in food meant the two villages struggled to find common ground. The primary thing that kept the peace treaty going strong, other than the caring and kind soon-to-be Bergen queen, was the Bergen’s guilt and insistence to make amends for the past.

Which was why it probably took many, many months for the Bergen king to address the issue at hand. He too had been nervous bringing up any troll-related problems that could cause a rift between the two societies. He had been both surprised and relieved that the troll queen took no offense and was more than willing to fix it.

And she will: what needs to be done must be done, regardless if it was unpopular opinion.

Far too soon Branch popped right into the busy pod. He had been charged with gathering the village for the important announcement.

“Are you ready yet?” Branch asked. “They getting a little anxious out there. If we wait too long they’ll probably start a _party_ , and that will be pretty difficult to stop anytime soon, and they wont be too happy when we stop it, and then they might throw a fit…”

“Sweetie, we love you, but shut up, your not making things better,” Satin chatisized the paranoid troll, then shooed him back out. “Go entertain the crowd or something. Poppy will be ready in a moment, there’s no need to rush her.”

“Fine, fine,” Branch grumbled, “Can I at least have a helping hand here?”

“On it! ” Suki jumped up, springing a portable turntable out of her hair. Cooper, Fuzzbert, and Guy Diamond followed suit to act as dancers. The four of them rushed right past Branch.

“No, no! What did I just say about starting a party?!” Branch waved his arms in a panic, following after them.

“Well, at least that keeps grumpy-pants busy for a while.” Satin chuckled, before guiding the still nervous pink queen to a chair. “Now lets get Maddy to tackle that mane of yours.”

Thirty minutes later Poppy sported a simple but elegant braided bun to go along with her royal ensemble. Satin, Chenille, and Biggie had rushed forward to join in with the rest of the Snack Pack while Branch returned to escort the queen to the mushroom stadium where she usually announced important news.

“I really hope I can do this; the Bergens are depending on me.” She confided to her companion, snuggling closer to enjoy the warmth of his presence. In return, he rested his head over hers in a comforting manner.

“You can,” He reassured, “You’re the greatest queen there is, so they’ll understand. And I’ll be right by your side the entire time.” He let go of her arm to intertwine his fingers with hers, squeezing gently.

Even still, her heart pounded in her chest as they neared the crowd.

 _Just like a band aid, rip it off nice and quick. It wont be too bad_. She took another deep breath before finally straightening herself into the image of a dignified and confident queen.

They past by the Snack Pack, who gave her a thumbs up. The chatter of the crowd simmered down as they came into view. And with one last squeeze of the hand, Branch let go to stand behind her, next to their friends in silent support.

“Good evening everybody!” Poppy cheerfully greeted the crowd, to returned the gesture. Things wouldn’t be so cheerful in a few moments.

“I’ve gathered you all here to make a very important announcement, and to declare a new decree.” Poppy grazed the crowd for their expressions. Most seemed confused but willing to listen.

“As you all know, we’ve made peace with the Bergens many months ago, and to this day they have been some of the kindest, bestest friends we could ever hope for.” She tried not to dwell too much on the fond memories of hanging out with Bridget; there were more vital things at hand.

“And to ensure that friendship remains strong, Bergens and Trolls alike must do their part to keep it that way. We’ve had fun picnics and parties with the Bergens, Bridget visits us everyday to play, we even have a few trolls working alongside our new friends.”

“And as wonderful as they’ve been, it has been an adjustment forming the alliance, and we’ve had a few problems here and there, but the Bergens had done their best to work with us to ensure we can enjoy our time in their company. They’ve cleaned up Bergen Town and even planted new trees, they’ve developed safe areas for trolls to walk around, they’ve controlled those scary creatures that live there, they’ve even made us candy pizza.” Now Poppy was getting hungry, salivating at the thought of that so good, delicious pizza with pink frosting and gummy worm slices; it had been the best thing she’s ever eaten, and more so because Bridget made it for them. The crowd also seemed to be reminiscing the yummy dinner they’ve had from last month, some rubbing their stomachs to appease the grumbling.

“Anyways,” Poppy spoke up again, realizing she paused a little too long imagining candy pizza, “They’ve gone to great feats to make us comfortable with their presence, and as friends so too should we accommodate to make them comfortable.” She took a deep breath; here it comes.

“So to ensure we remain at peace with the Bergens, _we need to stop stealing their left socks and return the ones we’ve taken._ ”

Instantaneously the quiet and content crowd began to whine, moan, and complain to their queen. Some looked downright horrified of the idea of losing their treasures, and few more even began to curl up and cry.

She felt the slightest pang of guilt, wanting to take back her words to appease her beloved trolls. But she has to remain firm in her decision.

“I know it will be hard, I know some of us can’t help it, but the socks are part of the Bergen’s personal property, and it is very, _very_ _wrong_ to to steal them.” She kept a stern expression towards the crowd; she means business, and she was not going to yield in her decision. At least some trolls seem to began to accept it.

“To make things easier, King Gristle and I have made a deal for the Bergens to donate their old, worn out socks, which we’ll keep stored in the old cupcake safe for everyone to share.” More whining and complaining. Trolls usually shared everything as a community, but never socks!

“I will hear nothing else of the matter: I hereby decree that all Bergen left socks aside from those designated for our use are prohibited in this village!”

Aspen raised his hand as if he was still in school.

“What about right socks?”

“Sure, go crazy.” Poppy shrugged. No one wanted to take right socks anyway.

It took nearly a week, as some trolls tried their best to hold onto their precious treasures until the last moment. Some begged for an exception to the rule, some tried to hide them in random locations. Biggie himself held a commemoration for the beautiful bright red wool sock he possessed.

Branch had rolled his eyes as Biggie sobbed on his shoulder mid-speech.

“I don’t get the fuss everyone’s making anyway,” he grumbled, “It’s just some stupid _socks_ ; it shouldn’t be a big deal letting them go.”

The rest of the Snack Pack glared at him. Branch was a known hoarder of many things, from traps to sticks to sweat in jars.

“Uh huh.”

“Whatever, Branch.”

The pile they’ve collected filled the basket Bridget had brought over to the brim. And while Poppy had kept her head help high through it all, she couldn’t help the pull of an unknown force drawing her in every time she glanced at the basket from her perch on the Bergen girl’s shoulder.

Was it some strange primal instinct that had been necessary for a troll’s survival long ago? A curse placed on all troll kind? Or simply some irrational, unnatural phenomenon that made the garment, left one’s specifically, enticing to them? They may never know the truth.

Nor does she want to, as she watches the Bergen citizens that had gathered gleefully celebrate the return of their missing socks, clutching the other pair in their hand to ensure they could match the two perfectly.

“Finally, I can sleep without cold feet again!” Exclaimed one Bergen that had reunited her yellow striped pair.

Many came over to the tiny troll queen to thank her, and each and every time Poppy had to force her focus on the Bergen in front of her and not the particular object in their hands.

By the time it was done and over with and the last of the Bergens departed for home, the sun was just barely peeking from the horizon and the stars started to blink into life one-by-one.

Bridget leant down and stuck her palm out for her friend to hop in. “Come one, Poppy! You can stay in my room tonight to catch up on things. I soooo gotta tell you about my date last night!”

Poppy’s eyes lingered a little too long on the lacy, white silk sock that fitted snugly on the Bergen girl’s left foot. She smiled up at her friend, breaking her trance-like state. “Sure Bridget!” Hopping on, she made herself comfortable as they ventured toward the castle. “He took you out to Starfunkle’s again?”

“Yes, and it was _so magical_!” Bridget sighed dreamily, going into great detail about her wonderful date.

It was dark when she came to, but Poppy knew it had to be morning, her internal clock screamed at her that this was the time someone would come knocking at her door to began the day. She yawned, stretched, and snuggled closer to her silky pillow, wanting to squeeze in just a few more seconds of shut eye.

After a few minutes without any interruptions, Poppy finally remembered where she was, or rather where she was suppose to be. She shot up and took in her surroundings. She was in Bridget’s old basement room back when she was a scullery maid.

Lying atop a pile of left socks, including Bridget’s silk one.

“…… _Well crap_.”


	2. Holla-Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the Trolls Holiday Special, here are four short stories for your enjoyment!

** COZY **

Branch’s favorite part of the day was the end of it. After a grueling day of collecting firewood and helping out other trolls, he liked to be welcomed home to the peace and silence that had started to become a rarity nowadays. He’d stoke the low burning fireplace with a few twigs, and set a kettle with water on the hook above, then make his way to his bathroom and fill his bathtub with water. The water from the kettle would be added to warm up the bath just right, and the kettle refilled to use afterwards. He’d add a bathbomb to help cleanse the grime and grease, and ponder over what sort of materials he needed to collect tomorrow. As soon as the bath turned cool, he’d dry himself off with a fluffy towel, wrap himself in his soft robe, and return to the kettle to make himself a cup of hot chocolate, then sit on his old but comfy one seater, read a few chapters of a book, and make his way to bed early so he’d could rise up before the break of dawn and start his day with some coffee.

He was confused, at first, when he reached out for this robe and instead came in contact with the metal bar that it was usually draped over. He could’ve sworn he put it back after folding the laundry earlier; did he leave it in the dirty bassinet? Was it accidentally placed in the wardrobe with his leaf vests? Forgotten altogether in the washing bin?

He got his answer shortly after leaving the bathroom.

“Hiya Branch!” Poppy exclaimed rather loudly. He jumped in fright.

“ _POPPY_!!!” He shrieked with a high pitched voice. He hadn’t bothered covering himself with anything after his bath, because, y’know, he lives alone. He wasted no time grabbing the closest object that would render him decent, clutching the pot that had been by the doorway.

Poppy not only didn’t seemed bothered by his lack of modesty (most trolls wouldn’t be, honestly), she hadn’t even flinched at his raised volume. She sat there, on his chair, wearing his robe, sipping his hot chocolate, and reading his book.

“You know, this is a pretty interesting book.” She commented, turning the page. “So many different types of trees, this could help me add a little variety in my scrapbooking.”

While she was speaking, Branch had ran off to fetch some clothing, making do with just his shorts for now.

“Poppy,” He chided with an assertive tone, “Remember our last discussion about _breaking into the bunker_?”

“Yeah, not to do it. But I had a _really_ good reason.”

“Like what?”

“Like spending time with you,” she winked saucily, “Now are you going to come here and cuddle with me, or are you going to stand there glaring like a grumpy grumpkins?” She scooted over on the one seater and invitingly beckoned him to squeeze into the small amount of space provided.

He tried to stand his ground, openly expressing his dislike of her intrusion with crossed arms and a frown. But after only half a minute, he gave up and joined her.

“On one condition,” He let the barest upturn of his mouth grace his face. He gestured for her to sit up. After doing so, he took her place in the chair.

“Hey! I was sitting there!” She pouted.  
His grin widened, and he grabbed her arm and pulled.

With a squeal, she fell right on him unceremoniously between his waiting arms, smushing her face on his torso. She remained there for a moment, still registering their position in her mind, but eventually scrambled to rearrange herself. Her legs now overlapped his thighs, and she pressed herself to his side, allowing his arms to drape over her once more.

“Now that’s more like it,” She giggled, snuggling her companion.

He said nothing, simply allowing her to read aloud.

__________________________________________________

** TRUE COLORS **

 

“Hey Poppy, I brought the flowers!” Branch called out from outside the entrance of her pod.

“K, I’ll be right over! Just adding one last detail to this scrapbook!” She turned back to her current scrapbook; her plan for today’s event. She was at the last page, cutting out the last bergen child figure to place in the middle of a ring of flowers, and adding the last happy face to them.

They were making flower necklaces to give the bergen children during their Sunday school, which meant a lot of flowers. Luckily, Branch suggested using one the farm wagon to haul them over from rainbow field. He and Cooper took care of all the collecting, while the other trolls simply had to weaves the necklaces. Then they could use the wagon again to carry their load to the bergen school. It was just another one of their many efforts to help the Bergens learn happiness, one Troll-sized step at a time.

As soon as she was done she gave her scrapbook a once over and, satisfied with the work, skipped and danced her way out of her pod and down below where both Branch and Cooper awaited.

As soon as she was in front of them Branch spoke up again. “So I hope this is enough; we can make a second trip if we have to.”

“Thanks you two! I think it looks like just...enough...” She trailed off, staring right at Branch with a flabbergasted expression. All color drained from her face.

“Are...you okay?” Branch tilted her head. Cooper waved a limb in front of her.

“BRANCH!!!” She shrieked, and immediately grabbed handful of his cheeks, forcefully turning his head in different angles. “Oh no, no, no, how did this _happen_?”

“Whtryou tlkin bot?” He found it hard to speak when Poppy was currently handling his face like molding clay.

“Do you see this?” Poppy asked Cooper, practically dragging Branch’s face closer to the giraffe-like troll, who leaned down to observe as close as he could.

“Hmm?” Cooper scratched his chin. “Oh!” He snapped his fingers. “He got a haircut!”

Not satisfied with Cooper’s answer, Poppy quickly dropped Branch to cup her mouth and holler. “EMERGENCY SNACK PACK MEETING!!! I REPEAT: EMERGENCY SNACK PACK MEETING. MY POD IN TWO!!!” Branch had just barely gotten back up before Poppy began to drag him towards her pod, Cooper trailing along.

The Snack Pack began to pour in within minutes.

“What’s the problem?”

“Is there trouble?” The twins were the first to burst in.

“We came as fast as we could!” Biggie and Smidge popped in as well.

“I’m heeeereee!” Guy Diamond pretty much sang as he dramatically entered, with Fuzzbert behind him.

“Ok good, we’re all here now,” Poppy clapped her hands together. “We have a serious situation-“

“Ahem!”

Poppy smacked her forehead. “Suki! Oh my god, I forgot! I’m _so_ sorry!” Poppy turned to the girl who had just entered. “Hehe, uh, take a seat?” Quickly noticing she hadn’t set up enough cushions, Poppy hurriedly snatched her kitchen stool and slammed it down to the left of Biggie.

“Ok, now we’re all here!” Poppy gave one apologetic look to Suki as she sat down.

“So what’s the emergency?” Smidge asked.

“ _THIS_ is the emergency!” Poppy raced over to the room divider she used for her bedroom and dragged the awaiting, confused Branch in view of their friends.

It took some of them a moment to understand, but soon enough every Snack Pack member reacted with shock.

“Oh my god!”

“Oh no!”

“This can’t beeeee!”

“You poor thing!”

“It’s not that bad,” Cooper defended from them. “Though the longer do’ was better.”

“Poppy,” Branch exasperated, “what exactly is going on?”

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay Branch, we’re all friends here,” she spoke soft and sweet to him. “Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay...we’ll help you get your colors back in no time.”

“... _What_?” He deadpanned.

“I know finding happiness inside you is very, _very_ hard, but we’ll help you reach it again!” Poppy then enveloped him in a hug. The rest of the Snack Pack followed suit, completely engulfing him.

“... _Get off me._ ”  
“It’s worse than we thought,” Chenille spoke up, “He’s completely immune to hug time again.”

“I’m _NOT_ grey, I’m just feeling a little down-“

“I know, a party! With new tunes!” Suki squealed, “that always makes me happy!”

“And a glitter ball surprise!”

“We can make him chocolate cookies!”

“A better ‘do!”

“Zumba!”

No one could understand what Fuzzbert was screaming.

“Everything’s fine Branch, we’re here for you,” Poppy cooed with a mushy tone. “You’ll be _green and indigo_ again in no time!”

“Excuse me, Popps,” Guy Diamond spoke. “I think you mean _green with blue hair._ ”

“Wow, you guys already forgot Branch’s true colors?” Satin and Chenille shook their heads disapprovingly.

“Guys, this isn’t really important-“

“As fashion designers-“

“We have a good eye for color matching-“

“And he’s obviously-”

“ _Teal and indigo_ -”  
“ _Blue and purple_ -”

“ _WHAT_!?!” The twins shrieked and looked at one another horrified.

“Are you _blind_?!” Satin screeched, “He’s not even _close_ to _blue_!”

“Don’t kid me, Sats,” Chenille crossed her arms, “I’m the one who always matched the swatches.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you can’t seam to save your life!”

“Say that to my face!”

“I. Just. Did.” And with that the twins were lost in their own world.

“Tch, he’s all _blue_ ; hair, skin and nose.” Smidge huffed.

“I’m sorry Smidge, but I just have to disagree,” Biggie leaned down to whisper. “His nose is _purple_.”

“Guys,” Branch huffed, growing more irritated. “Don’t we have necklaces to make?”

“Not now Branch, we’re busy deciding your colors,” Poppy dismissed him with a swat of her hand before turning back to Guy Diamond and Suki. “Look, this is my palette for colorful Branch,” She held out her felt swatches. “ _Green_. _Indigo_. And no one’s ever corrected me before.”

“Girl, that don’t mean nothing.” Suki shook her head. “I know he’s _blue and indigo_.”

“ _Green and blue_!” Guy Diamond corrected.

Fuzzbert kept screaming at the top of his lungs about something, but no one could hear it.

“Dude,” Cooper walked up to a miffed Branch, “I’m starting to think they haven’t noticed your haircut.”

Branch decided he had enough. “Come on, Cooper, let’s just _go_. We have necklaces to make.” They exited the pod, leaving the Snack Pack to their arguing.

__________________________________________________

** COSTUMES **

 

Up until he began to actually hang out with Poppy and her friends of his own free will, he had never been privy to the random, spontaneous, crazy ideas that the princess tend to form during some bout of sugar rush. What he did know was that half the time it had involved finding his happiness, even if they had to go through great lengths to do it. Now that he was actually happy, most of those efforts were now focused on the Bergens, with him in tow for the ride. 

Assuming he was filling in Creek’s former role in Poppy’s musical-style schemes, he sorely wished he had been a participant in the past; what a sight that would’ve been! Instead he had to learn the hard way of the absolutely humiliating role.

“Branch, hurry up and put your head on!” A butterfly Poppy forcefully squeezed his large head inside an uncomfortable daisy costume.

They were performing for a Bergen family having an outdoor picnic-style birthday, to sing about the joys of smelling the roses or something.

There were _worst_ things he could be, to be honest.

Last week he was the mermaid to Poppy’s ocean costume, after King Gristle had gotten himself a boat.

Then there was the time he had to sing a ballad as a donut. He would’ve preferred to have been the coffee, but noooo, Poppy insists she was more coffee due to her high-energy.

While Bridget was trying out a new gown for her first month anniversary ball, he had been lipstick and Poppy had been a pink diamond ring.

One of his few favorites was a rock. He doesn’t even remember why Poppy made him wear that costume, it had nothing to do with the bowling tournament.

“I don’t get why **I** have to wear this stupid thing,” He grumbled to Guy Diamond. Usually he never thought it out loud, but this time he felt the need to vent out to another.

He knew he was in for a teasing when Guy Diamond’s smile grew. “Oh, not feeling _fresh as a daisy_ today?”

 _Of course_ he had a pun at the ready. “Shut up.”

“Relax Branch, don’t lose your _petals_ over this,” Suki joined in.

“I guess it’s just not his _season_ ,” Satin and Chenille elbowed a cackling Cooper.

“Well I’d like to see one of _you_ guys wear this thing!” Branch angrily retorted. He was so done being the butt of their jokes.

They shared not-so-innocent looks before facing him again.

“Gee, I don’t know Branch, wouldn’t it be weird for one of us to join in your _couple’s costumes_?”

Branch’s eyes widened, and he grew flustered. “C-couples?!”

They burst out into giggles, before taking their places for the upcoming musical as Poppy began to sing the first verse from the front stage. His cue was in ten seconds, and here he was, blushing like an idiot. With the word still ringing in his head, he took one hurried step forward and face planted the ground, unable to right himself up thanks to the lack of elbow room.

“This can’t get any worse,” He groaned pathetically just seconds before the spotlight blinded his vision.

__________________________________________________

** FAVORITE **

 

Branch practically burst through his trapdoor with a grin plastered on his face, and marched straight to the village.

“HAPPY *BLEEP* BLEEP-A *BLEEP* SOUND DAY, *BLEEP*!!!” He cackled, startling the few trolls that were up at this ungodly hour. Not that nobody was expecting it; it was one of two days in the whole year the formerly grey troll would happily participate in. But now it looked like the newly blue Branch made the conscious decision to raise his volume to new heights.

“YO *BLEEP*!!!” Cooper hollered down from his low-hanging pod. “*BLEEP* YOURS, *BLEEP*!!!”

“*BLEEP* YOU, TOO!!!” Branch called back. The two continued on making the loudest ruckus they possibly could.

“How much longer?” Chenille groaned to her sister, covering her ears.

“Eighteen more hours to go,” Satin answered, grimacing as a few other trolls began to join in.

“At least it’s not Slapsgiving.” They recoiled, recalling Branch’s rather enthusiastic slap towards their no-longer-friend Creek last year.

“This holiday has absolutely no class.”

”Yeah, not like...”

-

“The Electric Foam Parade!” The twins jumped for joy. They spent hours before the break of dawn carefully bejeweling their pod-float in rhinestones. They wore the sparkliest outfits, the shiniest jewelry, and the most frivolous shades possible. Every passing troll ooh-ed and ahh-ed as the two showed off everything they got for the big parade. They even put Guy Diamond and the other glitter trolls to shame.

“Hmph!” The glitter troll loves his friends and all, but did they really have to _outshine him_? No, he was totally not jealous of all the attention _they_ were getting...on a holiday meant for _lasers and foam_ , not _glitz and glam._

At least Glitterpalooza was just around the bend.

-

“Woohooooo! Glitterpaloooooza!” Guy Diamond happily sang as he flung a dash of glitter at another troll’s face. Many laughs and smiles were given as the throng of glitter trolls went door-to-door to give everyone a nice big surprise.

“Too bad Branch never comes out of his bunker for Glitterpalooza,” Suki spoke to Biggie, both of whom were still covered in the residue of the first glitter attack.

“Hehe, yeah!” Biggie grinned, even as Suki hopped down to join their other friends. “Lucky _him_.” Biggie muttered under his breath before trailing along.

Not that he didn’t enjoy a facefull of glitter himself, but do they really have to hit poor _Mr. Dinkles_ as well? He’s just a baby worm after all, a **_baby_**!

Thankfully not every holiday was as harmful, such as...

-

“Tickle Day!” Biggie joyfully exclaimed atop a mushroom. He was, after all, the spider conductor for this day, helping the Spider Queen Arachnida organize this whole event to celebrate the birth of all the new spider offsprings, as he will do so next year for her chosen heir, and the next, and so on.

Tickle day was fun for all, and every troll that gathered around laughed with glee as they were covered head-to-toe in little spiders.

Except for Fuzzbert. His feet were the only visible part of his body, and he wasn’t even ticklish in that area! But even if he _was_ , the spiders that landed on him were gone in a flash, mistaking him for a plant, like most people usually do.

He much prefer the holidays where he got to show off a new dance move, or better yet...

-

Keep It To Yourself Day was pretty much the only day the entire troll village was ever silent. And for a fuzzling who was typically muffled out and unheard thanks to his thick hair, that was just fine with him.

Many trolls get through the day with a pen and note pad, while others, the Snack Pack included, played the longest and most challenging game of charades.

(UGH!!! I’m so bored! I just wanna play some tunes!) was what Suki tried to mime towards Poppy, who shrugged in puzzlement before returning her own jumble of incoherent hand signs.

-

“Now this is what I’m talking about!” Suki couldn’t even be heard over the music she was playing for the Mosh-sha-sha-na.

It was a bash like no other; loud, hard-core music, glow sticks and glow paint, and a pit full of party-going trolls dancing like crazy. It would go on all day and all night.

Among the sea of trolls was one you could barely even see if not for her long shock of hair. Smidge tried to have a good time, but Mosh-sha-sha-na was a holiday that has it’s pitfalls...literally and figuratively.

She was a teapot troll, barely reaching other troll’s knees. In most parties she danced on the high ground, but in a pit she was stuck just getting stomped on by the endless amount of feet from trolls that hardly registered her presence. It was a good thing trolls were very sturdy creatures, and that she was just really strong in general. Otherwise, she couldn’t dance along with them.

Or tried to, at least. Not only was it hard when your a small troll that was easily pushed and shoved no matter your strength, but it wasn’t long before a troll actually did notice that, yes, she was in fact there, and did what she expected them to do.

“Here you go, sweetie,” The random, well-meaning troll gushed at Smidge before placing her in the play pen of young trollings in the daycare pod set just outside the mosh pit.

“I’m _not_ a baby!” Smidge yelled out to no avail, as the music outside and the thick sound-canceling walls of the pod drowned her out. She could escape by forcing the pod open...and leaving an escape route for the trollings to wander off.

“This stinks! And I don’t mean you guys.” Smidge grumbled, crossing her arms as she kicked a ball back and forth with one of the little trolls. “Well, just two more weeks until the best day of all...”

-

“Happy Catch Your Friend Day!” Smidge bellowed out as soon as she caught Biggie. Many others cheered her on, impressed by her strength. She could see her other friends as well; a panicking Branch catching a happy Poppy, Satin and Chenille taking turns with each other, Guy Diamond almost missing Fuzzbert because he was posing for a picture. Suki was busy playing tunes for the crowd, which meant Cooper...

“Wooohoooooooo-OW!” Cooper landed face-first on the ground, his limbs splayed everywhere.

“Yeesh,” Smidge cringed, “Sorry bud, I had to catch the big softie.”

Cooper gave a thumbs up, sort of, before rolling over to his side. Catch Your Friend Day was fun while you dropped...but not when you land on the hard ground.

He was an oddly-shaped troll, and heavier than the others besides Biggie and the giant trolls. So the only troll who could possibly catch him was Smidge, but she usually caught Biggie instead. Not that he blamed her, Biggie was bigger, more sensitive, and had jumped off the trampoline first.

Still, his nose was going to be swollen for the rest of the day. And tomorrow. He could really use something comforting, like the sound of...

-

“Balloons!” Cooper heart leapt with joy as hundreds of balloons deflated simultaneously. “Haha, I love Balloon Squeal Day!” He blew into a few more and handed them out for the fifteenth round.

All his friends were gathered around, except Branch, who really hated the sound, which was weird in Cooper’s opinion. Well, to each his own.

Poppy grinned and bear it, but honestly she kind of wished Branch was around. She understood his reasoning, but he could just wear ear plugs for crying out loud!

“Hey Poppy, what’s your favorite holiday?” Cooper asked all of a sudden in between his task.

“Huh?” She blinked, brought out of her thoughts. “My favorite? All of them, of course!”

“Really? Not Scrapbook Day?” Suki asked. “I would’ve thought that’s be your favorite one of all.”

 _I thought so too, but_...thinking it over, Poppy loved the Scrapbook Fair a lot...it had always helped inspire new ideas for Branch’s Invitations.

“Or Forest Fest,” Biggie added, “You seem to like going to the forest a lot.”

_Yeah, to visit Branch every time._

“Ooh, or Blanket Bananza!” The twins exclaimed together. “You always seemed so happy to snuggle up in that old, patchy blanket of yours.”

“Yeah, you like, really need a new one.”

That blanket in question was one of the very few birthday gifts Branch ever gave her back when he was grey; it was _special_ to her.

“How about Happy Holiday Day?” Guy Diamond suggested. “The day you make up your own holiday!”

“Ohh, that’s a good one!” Biggie complimented. “I always do a Pie Day; I’m thinking blueberry this year.”

“We make up a fashion holiday-“  
“Called Showstopper Day.”

“And I like to do a Flamethrower Day!” Cooper said, reminiscing all the things he loved to set ablaze. “Haha, I love fire.”

“You have a problem, bud.”

“So what you always like to celebrate on Happy Holiday Day, Popps?” They asked her again.

“Well...” She had to think over what to say...she couldn’t exactly explain how she used to celebrate It with _Creek_. It would be awkward, especially given her former crush on the troll. The puns they had exchanged were a bit naughty.

Yeah, super awkward. Super _embarrassing_.

But it doesn’t have to be; she can celebrate it anyway she likes, and she needs to claim the day back and not dwell on the past. “You know, there is _something_ I would like to celebrate...”

-

On Happy Holiday Day, she knocked on the boulder just above the bunker. Sure, she knew how to get in herself, but she didn’t think it would be a good idea today.

He greeted her calmly and politely, a sharp contrast to his former grey self. “Hey Popps, happy lame day.” He grumbled.

Poppy had to giggle at that one. “Hey Branch...do you mind stepping out for a minute?”

He did so without a protest, slightly curious over her request. “Okay, what’s up?” He figured she must’ve come up with her own holiday for today, and reasonably wanted to share it with him, but she seemed oddly hesitant.

A hesitant Poppy was a _big red flag_.

“Well...” She took a deep breath, and gathered up her courage. It was now or never. She already had a few wild creatures joining her to create the melody, she just needed to blurt it out.

“ _You make me feel like a dangerous woman_!” She sang loudly, making him double take. “ _Something ‘bout, something ‘bout, something ‘bout you_.”

“Wha-wh-what are y-you saying!” Branch immediately reacted to the lyrics, blushing like mad a dark blue shade that almost matched his hair. He took a step back, ready to high-tail back inside.

She quickly blocked his escape route by standing atop his closed trapdoor. “ _It’s getting hot in here, so take off all your clothes_!”

“No!” He screeched, shielding his torso with his arms as if she was ready to rip off the vest herself.

By now she was so into it she swayed her hip in a flirtish way. “ _Don’t you want me baby? Don’t you wan’t me, ooooh_!”

“You know, I think I have something to do,” Branch sweated, flickering his eyes in every direction, looking for a saving grace, “intheforestit’sverydangerousyoushouldn’tfollowokayBYE!!!” He dashed for the forest as if he was being chased by a vicious monster.

Somewhat flustered herself, Poppy called out to him. “Happy Embarrassment Day!” She was starting to fall in a fit of giggles, still feeling the butterflies from what she just did.

Hopefully she can catch him again on his way back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Dangerous Woman” by Ariana Grande
> 
> “Hot In Here” by Nelly
> 
> “Don’t You Want Me” by The Human League


	3. Hello, Neighbor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, cross my heart, scout’s honor, that I am still working on PbyP!
> 
> But until then, enjoy this piece inspired by TTBGO season 2!!!

-

Branch paused, puzzled, at the sound of a doorbell.

He doesn’t have a doorbell.

Placing the rolls of fabric he had been carrying aside, Branch made his way up the elevator and to the trapdoor to investigate. He was met with a rather impatient-looking Sky Toronto, tapping his foot and holding a device from which the doorbell-like sound must’ve come from.

“Morning, neighbor.” The golden glitter troll greeted with barely a change to his usually stern expression.

“You couldn’t have knocked?” He crossed his arms.

“Hmm, far too rustic for my tastes.” Sky placed the device into his hair before clasping his arms behind his back. “I’ve come to invite you to a backyard barbecue, my place, this afternoon. Business casual.” His bodyguard/butler, whom Branch hadn’t noticed earlier, reached out to hand over a small invitation card.

“Neighborhood BBQ?” Branch read over the bold print at the top. “But, we’re the _only_ ones who live around here.” He gestured to the forest, where not a single other troll could be found in the near vicinity.

“Then it’d be a shame if you don’t come.” The bodyguard held out the chest of cookies, from which Sky grabbed a handful of to throw Branch’s way. “For your trouble.” They left shortly, leaving Branch to his cookies.

“I really need to get that recipe.” He grumbled, munching on one of them.

Sky Toronto failed to mention that he invited his business managers, top employees, and a couple of associates as well, and that the barbecue was more or less an excuse to test out an excessively over complicated grill that would simultaneously handle cob corn, pineapple rings and mushrooms. It also played music.

Branch felt like a fish out of water, surrounded by trolls he didn’t know, without Poppy or any of the Snack Pack to mingle with. Everyone here knew one another, talked about work or family matters, and complimented the precision of the new grill. He huddled awkwardly in a corner, with cubes of undeniably fresh and juicy watermelon. Someone had tried to talk with him earlier, mistaking him for a rubber supplier that happened to have similar colors. He left quietly after finishing his fourth cheese platter.

—

Now every time he heard a doorbell, he knew exactly who it was. He installed the new doorbell only last week, and so far only two other trolls knew about it. Poppy didn’t understand the point of it when she could just knock. Sky Toronto complimented how it blended well with the natural habitat.

“Afternoon, neighbor.”

“Sky Toronto.” He crossed his arms.

“Let’s cut the chase, shall we?” Sky adjusted the red bow tie he was wearing; he was testing out formal wear in biodegradable thread for trolls that tended to lose articles of clothing after parties. “I would like to borrow your hedge trimmers, as my landscaper seem to have misplaced his. Care to lend a hand, neighbor?”

Branch sighed deeply. “Do you plan to return them _this time_? Or am I going to have to wait _another three weeks_ before stomping into your lawn like I had to for the wheelbarrow you swore you’d bring back?” His glare deepened.

“Had I known you needed it, I would’ve brought it earlier. I promise, there will be no delays this time.”

“We’ll see.” Branch deadpanned. “I’ll go get them.”

He didn’t see them for another four days.

Branch put his foot down when he opened up a pantry to find one of the glitter troll’s telltale cards.

 _Needed your everything bagel spice, will bring back soon_. He crushed the tiny card in his hand.

“SKYYY!!!!”

One week and a new neighbor war later, they both came to an agreement to always ask first, and to not retaliate if the other refuses.

They may both be in trouble with the Queen, having framed each other for a particularly terrible prank involving her and her scrapbooking supplies/royal gown, but they came to a better understanding and a respect for each other’s property.

Up until their third war over property space.

—

Branch was in the middle of pulling out weeds when a loud bang startled him, along with several other critters nearby. He gritted his teeth, mumbling several threats of bodily harm. A second bang made him flinch, and at the sight of black smoke he decided he had enough.

“Sky, I thought we agreed to keep the noise level to a _minimum_!” Branch stomped his way over to his side of the fence, raising his fist.

The glitter troll was not looking as pristine as he usually was, covered in grease, sweat, and dirt while kneeled down next to a glitter cannon.

“Apologies, neighbor, I’ve was trying to make these cannons work with alternative materials, and my results have yet to be fruitful.” He proceeded to load something inside the cannon.

“Ugh!” Branch rolled his eyes, and hopped over the fence, not caring as he trampled Sky’s white clover-filled flower bed in the process.

“I’ve been trying a mix of explosive pollen and flower petals to create a new kind of firework other than the usual glitter bombs we tend to do.” By Sky Toronto’s feet were several capsules, each labeled with the ingredients inside, and the amount of each content, and next to those was a clipboard with notes to keep track of the different reactions. At least the troll was organized.

Reading thoroughly, Branch noticed most of the flowers were those that tended to be grounded up to vibrantly colorful powders for dyes, but otherwise not exactly useful. The materials were probably burning up before they even left the cannon.

“If you’re looking to make an effective explosion, why not use Smilebells? They grow in abundance, have different colors, are highly heat resilient, and are rich in potassium. All you’ll need is a liquid gel compound to trigger a delayed chemical reaction, and you’re all set.”

When Branch looked back up, Sky Toronto was uncomfortably leaning into his personal space, almost nose to nose.

“Explain further.” He demanded.

“Uh, well, uh-“

“Theres that stutter again, and you were doing _so_ well,” Sky cut him off. With a snap of his fingers, two servants were by their side. “Get me every Smilebell you can find in a ten meter radius, pronto.” The trolls nodded and hurried off. “Now, then, let’s discuss this over some lemonade and snacks.” Sky trapped Branch with one arm and proceeded to push the other towards the towering mushroom-style villa.

And that was how Branch was lassoed into helping Sky Toronto and his team of engineers into making a new kind of firework, using blueprints similar to his past projects to show them how it would work. The resulting firework would pause high in the air and go off like sparklers.

For his troubles, Branch received a heaping plate of freshly baked oatmeal-chocolate cookies, and the recipe to make them.

—

He had to admit, pools were pretty sweet, and he should probably consider getting his own.

Branch never knew what he was missing out on until Sky invited him to hang out and relax. As always, it was an excuse to test out a new product for pool parties: an inflatable chair that was also a back massager, has a cup holder, could hold up an umbrella, and even changes color based on the amount of contaminants in the water.

Sure, they were sipping on ice tea while two trolls dumped all kinds of unsavory things into the pool, but up until that point he had spent a little over two hours floating over a clear surface, without a fear of waterbugs, fish, frogs, or leeches (especially leeches), nor would he have to crawl onto a muddy shore, or a sandy coast which also hosted it’s own set of issues. The umbrella gave some nice shade, the tea was refreshing, and he didn’t strain a single muscle trying to stay afloat.

So even as he floated on a pool of _questionable_ sanitation and his float slowly changed to a warning red color, he gave Sky a thumbs up, showing approval over the product. Sky sternly nodded and wrote down on his research pad.

—

Branch had strongly believed that once Sky Toronto left his summer home to return to his pod, things would quiet down.

 _Nope_.

“WHOOHOOO!!!!” Several trolls splashed into Sky Toronto’s pool all at once. They tossed a beach ball around, which of course ended up on Branch’s side, knocking over a wooden stake he had _just_ set up to help one of his plants grow straighter. But at least it did far less damage than the frisbee that had shattered the glass on one of his periscopes.

Even with Sky Toronto out of the picture, the mushroom villa still needed maintenance throughout the year. With Sky’s permission, the gardeners and landscapers took full advantage of the pool and backyard during their hourly hug time break. Unlike Sky, they did not simmer down. Thankfully, they had little work to do during the winter, aside from the occasional trimming here and there.

This was _exactly_ why he refused to move out of his bunker and into a pod, and why he loathed the idea of having neighbors. One was more than enough; he couldn’t imagine living alongside dozens of trolls!

He never felt more relieved for the beginning of summer than when several trolls came over with boxes, Sky Toronto and his bodyguard trailing just behind. Already the troll looked like he was ready to test some sort of party-related gadget.

“Hello there, neighbor.” Branch smirked, leaning on the fence.

Sky, in turn, raised the shades he was wearing up and nodded. “Evening, neighbor.”

And things were better.

—

“Hey there, Branch.”

That made Branch froze and blink before he could greet Sky Toronto back.

Hey there Branch.

Not “morning, _neighbor_ ”. Or “afternoon” or “evening, _neighbor_ ”.

It was “ _Hey there, Branch_.”

Branch hesitated no further to whip out the shovel he’d been using and raised it threatenly over his shoulder. “Who are you and where’s Sky Toronto, _imposter_! I’m not afraid to use this!”

“I’m shuddering with fear,” Sky replied dryly, stepping backwards out of reach. “If you don’t mind dropping your weapon for a moment, I have a proposition to address.”

Proposition. That’s a business term. Okay, it’s Sky after all.

“Listening.”

Sky beckoned him over, a signal to follow him inside the home. Branch unlatched the fence gate Sky had installed since, and he quotes, “It’s rather uncivilized to make your neighbor hop over fences.”

There’s been a few times Branch had been inside the Mushroom villa, mostly for tea and snacks, in the grand parlor room meant specifically for sharing company. Sky was always a gracious host that left no guest feeling intrusive or unwelcome.

The large windows provided ample light, as well as a beautiful view of the pool and immaculate garden. While Sky preferred tea or lemonade, a coffee bar was arranged just for Branch. The sandwich squares included slices of the tomatoes Branch had given him, extras from his garden. The cheese platter was one Sky had shared with Branch multiple times and had gotten the blue troll’s approval.

Sky Toronto was not the kind of business man to dilly dally for too long, so it was slightly unnerving that Branch had yet to hear a peep of what Sky Toronto wanted to say. In fact, the glitter troll took his time, closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma of the cinnamon-blackberry tea he held in his hands, likely trying to figure out if it was suitable for his, and anyone else’s, palate.

Branch cleared his throat. “So, about this proposition you mentioned?”

Making up his mind, Sky reached over for the honey pot to sweeten his drink. “Branch, in the time I’ve known you, we have been sometimes at odds, and sometimes mutually content. We’ve had our differences, and learned to overcome them for a relatively peaceful coexistence.”

No kidding. Branch smirked, recalling their past disputes. Having a neighbor had been a huge adjustment, especially when it’s a headstrong, no nonsense troll like Sky Toronto. “Yeah, we didn’t start out on the best of terms, did we?”

“Indeed,” Sky Toronto nodded. “If I may be be frank, I say we’ve grown to become more than just neighbors, but rather good friends along the way. Am I wrong?”

Branch knew the answer to that question, but just to take a jab at Sky, pretended to ponder over it. “Hmm, I suppose it might seem that way.” He grinned teasingly at Sky.

Sky in turn smirked back, fully aware of Branch true thoughts. “I say so. You’ve went from a stuttering mess that destroyed my factory in less than five minutes, to someone I can depend on to help keep my factory on the cutting edge of discovery. Still rough around the edges, but at least you understand the importance of hard work and learning from your mistakes.”

“And I’ll admit, you’re far less of a conceited snob than I thought.” Branch chuckled. “ _Of course_ you _had_ to bring up the time I tried to replace you-“

“I’m retiring.” Sky interrupted, sipping his tea afterward.

Branch paused before he could grab another sandwich square. “Y-you’re...you...”

“Hmm, still have that stutter,” Sky tsked, then set his cup down to pick up a sandwich and inspect it. “I’m hanging up my tie in the near future, and plan to move into this villa permanently. As you know, I have no children to take over.” Finding the piece unsatisfactory, Sky set it down on his plate.

He stared straight at Branch. “I have a prospective heir by the name of Archer. Good kid; haven’t been there long, but so far exceeded every expectation and outperformed every single troll, and I have some incredibly outstanding employees, mind you. He’s upbeat, gets along with everybody, and has some refreshing ideas for the company.”

Branch gulped. Sky Toronto was not one to throw compliments like that unless they were absolutely true, so from the sounds of it, this troll would make the perfect Sky Toronto replacement. “Well, congratulations, I’m sure he’ll do great.”

“I want you to take over.”

Branch had to choke down the coffee he had been drinking, spitting it out in front of SKy would’ve been very unbecoming. “Wait, but I thought-“

“Yes, he’s perfect, but I’ve thought this long and hard, Branch.” Sky Toronto picked up a second sandwich, one that he found satisfactory to eat, and proceeded to cut it up smaller with his knife and fork. But he didn’t eat just yet. “It’s no coincidence I came to your neck of the woods. As I said before, I came here to relax, research, and develop new ideas. To elaborate, I came partially to research you as a potential candidate.”

Branch nearly stood from his chair leaning in forward, bewildered. “Research me?! You moved in on purpose?!”

Sky Toronto raised an eyebrow. “Did you really think I wouldn’t be aware I was right by your bunker, the same one the entire village sheltered in? And happen to test paint putters right outside your door?” A glint of mischief sparkled like glitter in his eyes. “When we’ve taken shelter in your bunker after that Bergen’s arrival, I was left astonished, mesmerized...somewhat _concerned_ , but overall impressed, by what a single troll managed to do on his own.”

Branch cowered with embarrassment. He was still feeling the after effects of leaving the entire village in his private dwelling unsupervised. Trolls came to him often for poetry advice, and Cybil offered therapy sessions. “Um, thanks.” Recalling the events that had transpired after their first feud, Branch’s eyes narrowed. “But I tried to handle the factory before, thinking it’d be the easiest job ever...and I _sucked_.”

“You’ve made the same rookie mistake as every other overconfident troll that came to take charge in my absence, but mistakes like those can be chalked up to inexperience and a lack of understanding. _I_ made those same rookie mistakes myself. I know better now. _You_ know better now.”

Sky Toronto paused to eat the much smaller pieces of sandwich, picking them up with a toothpick. “Your resourceful, hardworking, and a critical thinker. I strongly believe with enough guidance, you can make a great successor. Perhaps this Archer fellow would’ve been the better pick, if I’ve given him the chance,” Sky smiled thoughtfully, “But _he’s_ no Branch T. Lake.”

This was...out of the blue. Not once had Sky ever mentioned something like this to him. Heck, Sky never even hinted that he had plans to _retire_. The glitter troll was someone who everyone thought would probably work until his deathbed, trusting no other to do the job right.

But, there was a small, but significant problem.

“Sky...I’m honored, but...” Branch bit his lip, hesitating.

“I’m perfectly aware of your budding relationship with Queen Poppy; long time overdue, I’ll say.” Sky, out of character for him, began to mindlessly play around with the cheese platter. In fact, the troll was a lot more relaxed looking, less stern. “But it comes with uncertainty. Feelings change, it takes only one to end it. I’ve been in those shoes before.” More and more the troll’s facial expressions changed that he could’ve been mistaken for another troll. “She was stunning, and kindhearted, and ready to start a family.” The peaceful features on Sky’s face turned solemn. “But I had my ambitions. Foolish or not, it was the choice that lead me here.” He proceeded to quickly finish off the rest of his meal before setting it aside and clasping his hands in a formal manner.

His expression returned to it’s usual stoic frown. “Should you inherit the business, you’ll be busy, your free time taken up trying to stay on top of things. Everyone will come to you for answers, and expect you to always be right. There’s no room for family, only getting the job done so that trolls can be happy and satisfied with their party supplies. You will live, eat, and breathe the company. On the _other_ hand,” he held out one palm, “Should you be lucky enough to achieve that future with Queen Poppy, you’ll be just as busy, with trolls even more depended on you, but you’ll have love and a family to stand by you. She could also reject you, but I doubt that.”

“Are you trying to convince me to chose your factory? ‘Cause that doesn’t sound like the better deal,” Branch pointed out.

“I’m simply relaying your options; I have no intentions of deceiving you, Branch. The decision is yours, you might even decide to remain as you are now, handling the bunker full time. All I’ll say is that,  although I have Archer to fall back on, I wouldn’t hesitate to chose you over him. _He kind of freaks me out, to be honest_.” Sky muttered that last sentence under his breath. “So, what do you say?”

“...Let me think for a moment.” Branch looked down on his hands.

Up until he finally found the courage to ask her on a date last week, he and Poppy had been not-so-subtly flirting nonstop. They were taking their time, and their date had even been delayed for a few days. The slow progress made Branch wonder if he was over his head about the potential of a lasting relationship with Poppy. It was something he _wanted_ , really, but also something he wasn’t _sure_ of.

One things for sure, he can’t maintain a bunker while handling a village. And the same goes with a business as large as Sky Toronto’s, which would likely continue to grow even larger.

Three paths to choose. Two were absolutely certain, one was not so much.

He knew his answer. “I think...”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

—

 

With a huff, Branch noisily drops the heavy box, allowing it to thump harshly on the floor, disturbing the heavily accumulated dust. Branch ganders his surroundings; the primary room of the bunker rarely changed over the years, as he hadn’t had a lot of free time to work with. There had been just a handful of add ons to accommodate the needs of his changing life; a scrapbooking station, and even the old crib from when Thorn and Plumera were still sprouts. There were two new stock rooms further in the back, and tunnels directly from the village. Outside, a fence and a signpost established his borders. Aside from non perishable foodstuff, his ice box had been cleaned out long ago; but that was all right, he could simply return to his pod to eat once he grows tired of stale frozen cupcakes and pickled roots.

Poppy and the Snack Pack were taken along with King Gristle and Queen Bridget on a cruise trip to a tropical island paradise, as Gristle had called it. He hoped they were doing well, especially her; they had whisked Poppy off to help her get her mind off the anniversary of Peppy’s death. She needed the vacation.

It hadn’t stopped Poppy from sending a few notes and souvenirs his way; shells and plants she thought he’d like to look at. She recently sent a vibrant scrapbook filled to the brim of her adventures so far, her troubles taking a backseat in the recess of her mind.

Their son Thorn picked up the slack in his mother’s absence in Troll Village. Branch would’ve gone, too. Heck, he desperately wished he had, but Thorn needed someone around for advice and guidance...especially now that Peppy wasn’t here anymore. While their daughter Plumera had plenty of experience under her belt by now, she was far too busy handling the Troll Tree to come over and help out with the village as well. In fact, the last time he’s seen his daughter was to wish Poppy and the Snack Pack a safe, but fun, trip. That was about three weeks ago. He should visit the Troll Tree when he get’s the chance; see his daughter and meet the girl she’s been dating.

They’ve talked about moving to the bunker, just before Poppy left. Thorn was well on his way to taking over the village, so it won’t be long before he and Poppy can officially retire. She encouraged him to go ahead and spruce up the place while she was away. Between his duties with the village, and ridding the bunker of at least six months worth of dust, he had only just began to move some of their belongings over, and she’s due to be back in a few more days.

With the last of the moving boxes settled in, Branch took a breather. Age made him wear out more frequently, for longer periods of time. He looked up and grumbled over the sight of his unruly silver strands, weakened from exhaustion. Not only was a lunch break in order, but some grooming as well.

After a quick lunch he had brought along, toast and jam and a small yogurt parfait, Branch managed to find his brush on top of the few essentials in the box. With the dirty dishes in the sink, he settled back in the kitchen table and got to work carefully tending to his indigo-and-grey locks. Because he always took good care of his hair - it’s a troll’s primary defense, after all - it aged well enough that it would still stand proud, with only a little upkeeping needed. But still, it could be up to an hour before he’s satisfied with the results.

From above, he could hear the faintest thuds rhythmically echoing like a whisper he wasn’t meant to hear. He could barely hold his smile; the old Branch would’ve had a _fit_ that he could hear any sort of outside noise inside his supposedly soundproof bunker. Years living in a pod changed that; now it was welcoming, and kept the place from staying too quiet, without unnecessarily invading his eardrums.

Troll village continued to expand over time, and now what was once an isolated, secluded part of the outskirts was home to quite a few troll families. He knows a few of them, in the occasional moments he was able to come and clean up the bunker, keeping it in tip top shape to use in a village-wide emergency.

As he was moving boxes, he did not fail to sniff out what smelled like a blueberry pie, fresh out the oven. Whoever they may be, he fully intends to visit them. Poppy will likely already know everyone’s names, birthdays, and favorite ice cream flavor by heart, but it wouldn’t hurt to let the neighbors know of his presence beforehand.

He came prepared to properly meet the neighbors, the baking supplies box being the first one he brought over. His oven had been updated just before Poppy out of the blue asked him to move in with her, so he only needed to turn a few dials to get it working, no firewood necessary. As it heated up, he prepped all the ingredients: flour, brown sugar, coconut oil, chocolate ships, oatmeal flakes, and more. From a small recipe scrapbook, he turned to his designated page, which showed signs of being well used throughout the years.

 _Sky’s Cookies_ , it read.

Taking care to mix the ingredients in the proper order, with the exact number of turns as the recipe stated, he carefully dropped bits of batter into a lined baking sheet, in the correct size and spacing, all according to the recipe. It had never been wrong.

He watched them bake beautifully brown; he liked them just a little bit more overcooked than the recipe stated, and he doubted the neighbors would mind.

He let them cool on a rack while he freshened up, then piled them all into a basket to deliver. Making his way out of the bunker, he set his sights straight for the pod he knew the fragrance of delicious (and hopefully free) baked goods were coming from.

One pod visit led to a couple more. Everyone was more than delighted to see their king out and about, especially when he came bearing treats. He even visited the rock band that had been playing inside a hollow in the nearby tree.

As he arrived home, with only a few cookies remaining, and the leftovers of a pie slice packaged up for him, his wandering feet stopped short of a fence gate between his property and another’s. He faced head on at the large, artificial mushroom villa up ahead, home to the famous Sky Toronto.

Just as he said he would, Sky handed over the reigns of his business to a spritely and upbeat red glitter troll named Archer, whom which Guy Diamond was strangely _not_ fond of. As Sky predicted, Archer was a fantastic replacement and the entire factory was more than happy to have him, even though he hadn’t been with the business long.

It had been the gossip of the village for a whole month, since he had invited the entire village to his retirement party. Just like Branch had, no one had expected Sky Toronto to give up his hard earned empire.

Branch had already moved out of his bunker by the time Sky permanently moved in to his formerly vacation home.

Branch kept tabs when he could, and knew of a few things; Sky met up with, and began to date, his old flame, who by then was a widow with two adult children. She moved in with him, and they were happily enjoying the remainder of their days together. They were quite old now, and relied on a single butler to help them around, especially Sky. They don’t get out of their home much, but tried their best to host the occasional neighborhood barbecue.

The mushroom house, while beautiful in it’s prime, didn’t stand the test of time, rowdy neighbors, and severe storms. The lawn have overgrown and the pool was emptied out and turned into another garden bed. Moss climbed up on one side of the tall home, decaying parts of the plaster. There was a little bit of patchwork and discoloration to fix up cracks that had popped up. It was a good example of why pod homes were preferred over the high maintenance of artificially made estates.

He hadn’t realized just how long he had been standing there, by the fence, until he noticed a figure that had by now made their way three-fourths through the lawn.

The gray hairs completely overtook the once blue hair that had been very similar in shade to Branch’s. It was also cut short, likely to make grooming less of a hassle. Rather than full on glitter, only flecks of his skin sparkled here and there. Guy Diamond was quickly getting to that state in a glitter troll’s life himself. It was just enough that the golden glitter troll could comfortably wear clothing with little discomfort. As it was summer though, he opted only pants and his ever present tie.

Sky Toronto moved at a snail’s pace, but Branch waited patiently. In the background, he could just barely see a lavender, mint-haired troll in the tea room, and then another, dark blue troll appeared, holding what seemed to be a kettle. The wheelchair stopped right in front of the fence gate where Branch waited. The older troll, with a stern frown, greeted him at the very moment the dark blue troll inside stumbled into the lawn frantically calling out.

“Evening, King Branch.”

Branch smiled. “Hello, neighbor.”


	4. The Teacher’s Pets

To Buttercup, becoming a teacher was an absolute no brainer.

Both her parents were teachers, as were her grandparents, her maternal great-grandmother, three of her great-great-grandparents…it just ran in the family, so to speak.

She _loves_ her job; she was excellent with children of all ages and backgrounds. She memorized all her charges’s allergies, food preferences, habits, and names of their immediate family members. Parents adored her because of her patience, flexibility, and eagerness to help. When the trollings struggled with a problem, she took the time and care to help them solve it.

She _loves_ her job, she couldn’t imagine doing anything else besides standing in front of a crowd of young, curious faces, awaiting for her guidance to enlightenment.

She _loves_ her job.

She just needs to remind herself that sometimes.

—

“Okay,” She had already bookmarked the page in her binder, flipping right to it. “Mr. Herman, Ms. Berrysweet, Branch,” She nodded to the trolling in question, who was grumpily pouting in between his two elder guardians. “I think you understand what we are here for today.” Before she continued on, she took one last gulp of coffee from her tall tumbler. She was going to need it.

At first you’d think the biggest issue with the little grey troll would be his pessimism, inability to tolerate other children, his fear-mongering antics and his hatred for anything happy.

But she was a professional. She never pressured him to join in group projects, sing-a-longs, or dance practices; and instead gave him special, individual assignments he could handle alone in a corner of the room. When partnering was unavoidable, she always teamed him up with the aloof but dependable Flint. He was also a bright student, and very passionate, even if his interests were rather unorthodox for a troll.

He just had a very bad habit of running away. Or not coming at all.

It was affecting his attendance record.

“Who cares if he attends class,” Herman complained, arms crossed. “What’s the little rascal gonna learn from some posey-filled greenhouse trip that he hasn’t learned already from _yours_ truly?”

“And color spectrums of the _rainbow_?” Berrysweet quipped disdainfully. “I’ve already teaching him spectrums _far_ more useful: infrared and ultraviolet wavelengths.”

“The bloody hell _those_ do for him, _Bittersweet_?”

“Hmph!” She turned her nose at Herman. “For your information, _Hermie_ , infrared alone has many useful functions. For starters, wireless communications between multiple devices through coded pulses sent from a remote-“

“Yada, yada,” Herman blew a raspberry, making Branch giggle and Berrysweet furious. “Save your geek talk for someone who gives a damn.”

“Just because your _simple mind_ doesn’t understand doesn’t give you right to-“

Herman yawned loudly, and feigned snoring. It made Branch snicker again.

“Stop that at once!”

“Both of you,” Buttercup rubbed her aching temples, “If we may get back to the issue at hand. The matter of fact is, consistent attendance is as essential a lesson to teach young minds as, well, what both of you are doing.”

“Survival training, plants and herbal potions, rock identifying-“

“It’s called herbalism and geology, _Herm_.”

“Keep your fancy words to yourself, _Bitter_.”

Buttercup sighed, holding her hand up to stop them from continuing. “All I’m asking is that, as his unofficial and completely non-legal guardians, to please be mindful and make sure he attends class from now on. Anything you wish to teach him outside of school curriculum can be done at your own time. But preferably, after he graduates and chooses his trade.”

“Which will be mine!” Herman and Berrysweet said together, again giving one another death glares.

Buttercup shook her head; it was no wonder where Branch learned all of his expressions from. She decided to end any further bickering by pulling out the trolling’s performance record.

“Aside from his lacking attendance, he’s excelling in his given classwork but could learn a little more about teamwork and socializing with his peers.”

“I don’t like my classmates,” Branch grumbled, speaking up for the first time, “All they do is sing and hug, they’re so _intolerably obnoxious_.”

“Now Branch, just because you don’t like something, doesn’t mean they’re...wait, let me guess where you learned those words from.” She leered at the two elder trolls who were not-so successfully whispering insults to one another

“That’s nothing. Herman said yesterday _#*$#@ &@#!_” Branch gleefully told her.

Silence filled the room; Berrysweet was seething with rage now.

“Ehehe, kids these days?” Herman shrugged sheepishly.

Buttercup looked down at her already empty tumbler and sighed; she should’ve gotten her jumbo mug for this.

-

“Nonsense, absolute _nonsense_!” Guffin had angrily shouted, gesturing to the air madly, while Creek quietly and calmly sat on the chair next to her. Guffin had brought over a basket of muffins that had since been knocked over and scattered all over the floor. “My precious baby would _never_ , I mean _ever_! What kind of _teacher_ are you?! My goodness!”

She waited patiently. _Dear god, she waited patiently_. She sorely wished she could’ve reached Cybil, or even Creek’s rather absent father Ciel.

Instead, this was who she had to deal with. Ms. Guffin was like a free-standing brick wall; impossible to talk to, and ready to crush you like an insect.

She hadn’t even explained anything yet; all she had said was that Creek may have some issues with another student. That student happened to be Branch.

The two boys were just narrowly close enough in age to be in the same year; had Creek been born just one more week earlier, they’d have separate grades.

If only. She could daydream, at least.

It went on like that for a good ten minutes or so before Buttercup could finally put in a word as Guffin lost steam. “Miss Guffin, I promise Creek is in no trouble in any way.”

“Of course he isn’t! He’s never done a thing wrong! Isn’t that right my wittle angel?” Her scowl melted right off as she gushed at her grandson and pinched his cheeks. “So perfect, and such a handsome gentleman. You’d make a fine _king_ one day!”

The scowl returned once Guffin straightened up and faced Buttercup. Creek hunched over and rubbed his bruising cheek with a pout on his face.

“If I may continue on now: I’ve noticed lately he hadn’t been sharing his work during art class.”

“And what does this have to do with another student? They’re probably just jealous of his perfection!” Guffin barked.

“Please, let me explain,” Ms. Buttercup exhaled. “I found it odd, at first; Creek is very sociable with his classmates, higher than average in grades, and overall an excellent student. It wasn’t right that he would sit in a corner table alone to draw.”

“And that’s so wrong, how?”

“Then all the children had been distracted by a butterfly that landed out our pod’s window, and I manage to retrieve this.” From Creek’s folder, Ms. Buttercup took out the picture he had been drawing earlier that day.

Instead of maybe flowers, rainbows, or even a handmade superhero comic, things that were typical of trollings to draw...

It was Branch.

Falling into a dark hole.

With spikes in the bottom.

And Creek smiling from above.

With a crown on his head.

The words “future soopreme king” was scrawled over picture Creek’s head, and “ugly dumy an his dumy hole” over Branch’s.

Guffin looked it over. “I see nothing wrong with this, just a boy having a little fun.”

“I am deeply concerned, Ms. Guffin. Branch is surprisingly enthusiastic and interactive during his art classes, and the children do tend to fawn over his rather advanced artwork. If I may put in my two cents-“

“You may not!”

Buttercup sighed. _This troll._ “I suspect that Creek may have a tendency to lash out at others who seem to, well, take the spotlight from him, if you will.”

“You’re accusing my angel of _jealousy_? Absurd! _Outrageous_! What kind of teacher are you?! I have half a mind to march over to Peppy and have you thrown out the village by your ears! _Goodness_! My _goodness_!”

 She wondered if she started wearing ear plugs during parent-teacher meetings, if anyone would notice.

—

“Obstruction of class time, scaring the other trollings, disrespect to a teacher, attempt to _pick a fight with a teacher,_ and let’s not forget, lifting up an entire desk to bench press it, then accidentally dropping it and damaging the floor; we may add destruction of property to that list.” She looked up from the performance sheet.

Smidge’s father, Jack, a gym trainer, looked down at his tiny girl with disappointment. “My daughter, bench pressing a desk?”

“Sorry, pops.”

“You could do so much better, my Smidgeon! These flimsy things? Hah! You need to push your limits and go for three! No, _FIVE_!!!”

“Yeah!” Smidge jumped out of her seat, pumped up.

“I rather you not!” Buttercup yelled.

“Heck, let your ol’ man show you how it’s done, I’ll take on the teacher’s desk _AND_ all the class desks!”

“Do it, DO IT!!!”

“Sir, sir, please put those down! SIR!”

To no avail. Next thing she knew, she was covering herself and the young trolling as all the desks came crashing down, Jack’s back having given out.

“Ooooooo, that smarts!” He groaned, writhing on the floor that wasn’t obstructed by the pile of desks.

—

“This is all _your_ fault!” Satin shot at Chenille, who sat to her left. Several of their limbs were in casts.

“Nuh uh, it’s _yours_!” Chenille shot back.

“Is _not_!”

“Is _too_!”

“ _NOT_!!!”

“ _TOO_!!!”

“As you can see, Miss Glam, they’ve been very disruptive in class, constantly arguing.” She gestured to the twins.

Their mother Glam was too busy looking into a compact mirror, reapplying her lipstick. “My darling gumdrops, could you please argue a little more quietly while mommy speaks to the educator?”

They did, now pushing each other with their good arms and hurling insults, a little quieter.

“M’kay, m’kay, thank you babies, luv you to bits.” She sent them air kisses. Glam straightened up and gave her attention to Buttercup. “Now, lay on the critique, beautiful. What is the problem?”

“Well, as I said, they’ve been rather disruptive in class; they seem to have an issue in agreeing on anything, and have been loudly quarreling over multiple things.” She had been keeping a list on the back of her teacher guide.

“The outfits they were wearing for Fridays, what to do for their science project, who got to answer a question on the board first, which boy was the cutest, where to sit in the classroom, what to do for show and tell, who has the best hat, who gets the pink pencil-“

“My skin is, like, pink!” Satin exclaimed, “I should’ve have the pink pencil!”

“But I HATE orange! Ew!” Chenille yelled back. “Pink compliments ME better!”

“Nothing compliments THAT awful hairdo!”

“We have the same hairdo!”

“Why am I _stuck_ with you?!”

“Why am _I_ stuck with _you_?!”

“You both know you could separate at anytime,” Buttercup reminded them.

They gasped, and looked at her stunned, as if she had said the most horrible thing.

“ _Separate_?”

“ _Us_?”

“No way!”

“Never ever!”

”We’re more than sisters, we’re best friends!”

”And we always stick together!”

“Twins for the win! Through thick and thin!” They squealed happily, hugging one another with their good arms, laughing.

“Well, that solves that.” Glam took out a lighter and a drag. She inhaled the other end, then exhaled the resulting smoke into several rings. All inside the classroom.

“Care for one, lovely?” She offered to Buttercup, who was coughing and wheezing by now.

—

She thanked all her luck and good fortune! For _once_ , fate was on her side!

Because she was the spitting image of her grandmother, just a few slight shades difference. With her grandmother’s signature lemon-colored glasses on, she could’ve been mistaken for the same troll in all the old photographs.

You see, it was hard teaching a princess who hasn’t learned the meaning of “no” and always got her way, every time.

The last show-and-tell had been the final straw. 

She had been dreading this conference, no matter how necessary it was, purely because King Peppy’s loving dottiness towards his precious little princess transcended _beyond_ reality.

There was absolutely no way anyone could snap Peppy out of it; he was blinded by adoration to take their concerns seriously. Any advice given would fall on deaf ears. The fate of troll village rested on the hands of a child who would one day grow up never knowing discipline, all because of one stubbornly heart-strucked king.

Unless you were the one troll King Peppy feared.

Or at least look like her.

He had burst into her pod with a bang, the little princess in one arm. He stood straighter than he had in years, chin up, looking confident and stern.

The look on his face when he saw her was absolutely _priceless_. She should’ve brought a camera.

The ‘mighty’ king instantly shrunk and hunched over, gently dropping his daughter to the floor and grabbing for the door with both hands. “I-I am so sorry about that.” He carefully closed the door behind him, visibly sweating.

“Sit down.” She commanded firmly.

He hurried himself and the little princess over to their chairs, nearly even seating himself on the small stool meant for the young trolling. The king fumbled his way to his proper seat, a regular student’s chair for the older children. Peppy tugged a few strands of his mustache and began nervously chewing, as if he was the trolling that was about to face the consequences here. He looked everywhere but at her.

Oh, this was _too_ good.

She lifted a large binder filled to the brim with papers and led it smack loudly onto her desk, making the king jump, and even the princess squeaked.

“Where to begin, where to begin.” She shook her head. In reality, only the first few pages in the binder were necessary, but it gave such dramatic and imposing flair to have such a big binder for such a small princess. “Let’s see here. Hmmm,” She pretended to look over the paperwork.

“Mrs. Begonia, I-I mean, Buttercup,” Peppy anxiously spoke up, confusing his daughter with the incorrect name. “If I may say-“

“Hush.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She had to resist the urge to smile at that.

“Peppy, Peppy, Peppy,” She tsked, shaking her head. “Do you know why you’re here today?”

Peppy gulped. She could tell in his kooky, sort-of spaced out mindset, he was regressing to his years as a young student by now. “Yes, ma’am.”

“For starters, our show-and-tell today. As you can see,” She gestured to the room. “We’re in my pod, and not the classroom. Any guesses _why_?”

“Well,” Peppy still couldn’t look her in the eye, head down guiltily, as if he had been the troublemaker. “Because...it blew up.”

“ _It blew up_.” She nodded. “And why did _it blew up_?”

Peppy bit his lip and Poppy cowered. “Because...my daughter took something that did not belong to her.”

“She took something that _did not belong to her_ ,” Buttercup agreed, “ _Without_ asking permission, not knowing what it was, or that it would cause so much collateral damage. And _this_ ,”

She reached for her hair and pulled it out, making the princess flinch. It was a wig. Her real hair was buzz cut with flower patterns; the best Maddie could do to salvage it.

“This is the result of me having to use my own hair to protect twelve trollings, mind you, _twelve_ , from the occurring blast.”

“I am _so_ sorry.” Peppy said with such a small voice.

“Miss Buttery, I’m super sorry!” Little Poppy exclaimed. “I didn’t think it woul-“

“That’s _Ms. Buttercup_ , young lady.” She corrected.

“Poppy, please respect your teacher properly and say her name right.” Peppy chastised his daughter.

Poppy looked at her father astonished, not believing what she just heard.

Buttercup mentally leapt for joy.

She wasn’t stunned for too long, and complied with her father’s order. “Um, I’m very sorry Ms. Buttercup.”

“And that’s not all, Peppy.” She moved on to the next subject. “There’s also the matter of her poor attendance; she seems to think it’s okay to skip class in order to visit the trollings in the higher or lower grades and goof off.”

“But I wanna see Branch and Creek and Suki!” Poppy whined.

“Poppy!”

Realizing her father was not happy to hear that, she lowered her head. “M’sorry, Ms. Buttercup.”

“Are we sorry?” Buttercup’s eyes narrowed. “You can show you are sorry by _not_ skipping class anymore.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Now the _princess_ was calling her ‘ma’am.’ This was the greatest day ever.

“In addition, the young princess seems to be missing a lot of schoolwork, for the same reasons mentioned. I’m afraid if this is not rectified by the end of the school year, she may have to be held back.”

“No!” Peppy gasped, paling. Holding back the _princess_? The village would question her leadership capability!

“That means you won’t be in class with your friends Satin and Chenille.” She explained to the young princess, also receiving a reaction.

“Nooooo! I wanna stay with them!” Poppy whined.

“Then from now on, we better see some assignments turned in. I’m being generous to allow you to turn them in late.”

“I will, Ms. Buttercup!”

“Yes, ma’am! I promise, I will make sure her homework is completed from now on! And that she behaves like a proper troll!”

As they left, Buttercup took out her grandmother’s picture and kissed it. “ _Thank you_ , Nana!” She couldn’t believe how smoothly that went!

Her door was once again slammed open.

“How _dare_ you!” Guffin shrilled, pulling Creek with her. “How _DARE_ you!!! Reprimanding the _princess_ herself! Where is she, the _poor_ thing?! Creek, go find her and make her feel better! Who do _YOU_ think you are! My _goodness_!”

Why me? She sulked.

 


End file.
